The letter
by ar-men15
Summary: sequel to Random, Stevens discover things bout himself and Miss Kenton
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

Friday evening don't go as I planned.  
I hoped to spend some time with Miss Kenton in her parlour and with discretion learn more about her meeting.  
It's important for the house, the staff welfare and - I have to admit it - for my personal welfare, too.  
My concerns increased since I saw her distressed and dripping rain, pushing her broken bicycle.  
She briefly told me later of her meeting with a former colleague, that didn't go well as imagined, and I restrained to ask the very name. I prefer she tells me the identity without me asking.  
Unfortunately on Friday morning William has to leave the hall in a hurry after his father's sudden worsening and George is still recovering from a cold, so all the duties with the guests of his lordship are on me.  
I'm able to stay for two minutes only with Miss Kenton before staff dinner, that I have to skip this evening. She's mending a dress beside her fireplace, looking up when I enter.  
"I'm afraid we cannot have our night cup, I don't know for how long I will be busy."  
It's is not the first time, but I feel compelled to advise her in advance.  
"Mr Stevens, it is not a problem, I have still various mending to complete, it will take time."  
She's telling me she'll stay awake, waiting for me.  
It's comforting the way she values my company.  
"If you says so, I'll knock when I'm off duty. If you re still working we could talk, if not I wish you a good night."  
When I leave I heard a muffled cough and realise her voice is not steady as usual, like something is stuck in her throat she cannot send away.  
In the library the gentlemen are chatting and I'm assisting them, not listening as always their dialogues – decorum dictates me – this time because another dialogue is playing in my head.  
I'm trying to find the words, change approach, prepare a speak.  
It seems so difficult, my command over English language lost.  
Should I write the words?  
It lacks spontaneity and I think in this case a little of it is needed.  
I don't want to spend another evening as the previous one. The idea of Miss Kenton away from here or in danger is not acceptable for me.  
I care about her.  
This realization dawn on me and the plug of the bottle rattles against the crystal neck.  
Nobody notices it except me, the voices are loud and cover the sound I've made.  
Last round of brandy and Lord Darlington tells me I'm free, I decide to keep my formal jacket on and to go briefly to see Miss Kenton before returning in the corridor outside the library, should lord Darlington forget the staff problems and call for William.  
I knock lightly at her door and it is a little ajar, so I push it open.  
She's on her couch near the dying fireplace, her legs covered by a plaid, eyes closed and probably asleep.  
I call her name, she stirs and her hand go to her mouth to cover a cough. She is not well, her face is red and her eyes are fevering.  
"Miss Kenton, you need to retire for the night, I think you have a cold."  
She nods, she tells me her throats is sore and she sipped a hot tea with honey to ease the pain, the cup is on her desk.  
She waited for me and this simple gesture warms my heart in a new way.  
She laments her walk during the rain was the worst choice of the year, I completely agree, adding whoever wanted to meet her could have thought better to make her leave the house in the rainiest month of the year.  
"Mr. Stevens, I wish I never answered positive to Mr Benn request of a meeting."  
Mr. Benn.  
I conceal my feelings, my face shows only concern for her.  
"Just to tell me he's leaving service for the coast and insisting with me to visit him. Like I had holidays to spend at the sea."  
She met Benn, her former colleague, Benn, who visited here and talked with me and I told him I'd be lost without miss Kenton  
The only man who heard those words from my lips.  
There was something in his eyes after, I thought it was a wrong impression from me but no, he was mulling my words and he kept on doing so.  
I don't want to speak about Benn now, I want miss Kenton to have a good sleep and I must find a way to help her.  
It's late, she' has an early start and she is not well.  
I offer her to prepare a warm bottle from the kitchen and a lemonade for the throat, my mother used to make me drink it when I was a little boy. She agrees, I promise to fix the red ashes of her fire before going to bed, now we need to go to the kitchen.  
Her lemonade is ready long before the bottle so I insist she goes to her bedroom to drink it and I'll follow with the bottle once I've wrapped it in a towel.  
She leaves, her breathing is getting worse and my feelings regarding Benn are making me strange.  
I half walk, half run to the library, the door is open, the lights are off and I control briefly and close the door. The house is silent, now I'm really free for the day.  
I'm outside her bedroom with the bottle in a chest, she opens and I see she'd already wearing a nightgown and a woollen long cardigan, a scarf draped over her neck.  
Not a novelty to see her dressed for the night, the first time when a guest had a stroke and we had to call doctor Evans and then the ambulance and all the house was up. Then a year ago Mr. Cardinal arrived long after midnight and Miss Kenton had to prepare a room swiftly; I assisted her, having understood Mr Cardinal was involved in very important matters regarding national security so better keep his presence the most private possible.  
That time I was dressed for the night, too, and it seemed some how strange, to see two people preparing a bed, dressed to go to bed, with no intention to use it.

I move the chest toward Miss Kenton, warning her about the excessive warm.  
She thanks me and smiles, the smile she uses when I do something she approves from the heart.  
I'm rooting on the spot on her door, knowing I have to leave and not wanting to do so .  
She coughs again and I have an idea, tell her to wait for me for a minute, while I go to my bedroom and from the nightstand retrieve a box of candies Mr Cardinal gave me, made in Ireland, when we went to London with his lordship and I had a sudden loss of voice due to the windows open on the train.  
I offer her the herbal candies and while she took the small metal box from my hand our fingers are in a brief contact, I'm sure she notices it like I do.


	2. Chapter 2

CH 2

On Saturday night His Lordship hosts a formal dinner to celebrate the foundation of the Hall, back to the XVIII century. Among the guests, the major, the vicar, doctor Evans, Mrs. Anderson the school principal and a few other notable people of Darlington with their spouses.  
Miss Kenton has spent with her staff the morning and also part of the afternoon, until her fever rises again. When she knocks at my door her face is red and her eyes are full of bright flames. Asking my forgiveness, she cannot stand up any longer.  
It means all the responsibilities of the evening are on me only, with a reduced staff, William away, George filled with hot tea and chicken soup to make him recover faster.  
Cook and the maids are nervous when Miss Kenton is not around, especially Cook, who has a nervous breakdown around five, when a large pan with roost falls to the floor.  
I'm called in the kitchen and the hysterical scene I witness tests my composure to the limits.  
My words are unheard, Cook repeats only she wants to speak with miss Kenton, Juliet - the kitchen maids I suspect caused the fall of the pan - is crying like a fountain.  
The gardener clean the floor as fast as he can, the dogs will be very happy with their dinner,  
I raise the volume of my words, getting attention only when I stand in front of Cook and with the iciest stare I can manage explain her miss Kenton is really unwell, the dinner will be reorganized and I expect the kitchen to be silent again in a quarter of an hour.  
I leave, feeling exhausted. If this is what the evening has in store for me, I'll have to use all my experience to cope with the staff.  
Holding a tray with a bowl of soup, I ask miss Kenton admission knocking at her bedroom door .  
I enter and leave the door wide open - propriety is important when a man is in a lady private chamber – but the setting is so proper to verge on ridiculousness.  
The form lying on the bed is clad in multi layered covers, a knitted hat over her head, her nose and upper lips covered in what seems a very greasy cream, making miss Kenton appear like an old woman.  
Her voice is unrecognizable. I offer her the bowl and realize she cannot keep it and eat at the same time.  
Her frame is torn by a series of coughs. Impossible to make her sit on the edge of the bed. I draw a long breath, put the tray on the desk and standing beside the bed spoon feed her, a napkin on her neck and one on the sheets.  
She's too unwell to protest and I'm too concerned to think about what I'm doing, especially the fact I could have delegate a maid to deliver the tray.  
I inform her of the kitchen incident and she praises my behaviour.  
That's what I hoped to receive, her approval, her support, Miss Kenton standing by my side like she uses to do.  
I'm ready to leave and she calls me back.  
"Mr Stevens, I' m deeply grateful for your concern."  
"It is nothing, I wanted to see you, I'm worried for your health, it's a serious cold you have. I'll ask doctor Evans to come and see you when he arrives."  
"There's no need."  
"Please Miss Kenton, it will be a brief visit, but I prefer to hear his opinion."  
"Yes, sure."  
She looks at me in a strange way while I retreat and close the door. Doctor Evans will sure suggest rest, hot teas and similar remedies, it's only a bad cold, I know it.  
Too concentrated on her, I don't look around, so after an exhausting evening, when I retire around 2 o clock, it's the scent of her room that lulls me to sleep


End file.
